


Mummy Dearest

by IntotheStarkerVerse (IntotheStarkerverse)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mummy AU, Starker Bingo 2019, Starker Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntotheStarkerverse/pseuds/IntotheStarkerVerse
Summary: A prompt fill for Day Two of Starker Week (Non-Powered AU)As well as for Starker Bingo (Protective!Tony)And ESPECIALLY for my Nonnie Tumblr request who asked for a Mummy AU.A Mummy AU...that diverges from the movie the further you go along, but I believe still encompasses the spirits of Starker and the Mummy...





	Mummy Dearest

1.

The only downside to all of this was that he wasn’t going to get to see Howard’s face when he heard the news.

Well…actually, there were multiple downsides to this, like dying and the rat that was trying to chew through what remained of his shoe leather…but really, it was the whole Howard thing he was most concerned with at the moment. He’d been livid when Tony turned his back on the family fortune and his bright future to join the French Foreign Legion. Tony’d lied when he said he was out for adventure. Oh no, primarily, he was out to piss off Howard and possibly stumble into enough treasure to be able to return home wealthier than his old man…because honestly, that would feel good.

Being hanged in an Egyptian prison wasn’t actually one of the ways he thought this was going to end, but in retrospect, he probably should have realized it was a distinct possibility given his life choices.

Tony rested his forehead on his knees and tried to ignore the sweltering heat, the bugs skittering over his hands on the ground, the loud arguments erupting around the prison beyond his cell door, all of them in loudly spoken Arabic that he could only barely comprehend. His head was splitting. It was a shame the prison guards weren’t more sympathetic to a man’s hangover. He needed water. Or better yet, a little hair of the dog. The likelihood of him getting either one was…well, it was slim to say the least.

The sound of footsteps stopping at his cell door surprised him. Was it time to die already? He hadn’t even fully finished imagining Howard’s reaction to the news! “Hey, boys, I guess it’s true what they say about time flying…” His words were interrupted as he was forced to his feet and dragged out of his cell. Not towards the gallows, though. Towards the visiting cells? Who was visiting him?

God, had Howard found him? Was he about to be rescued by his bastard of a father and taken home to New York, because if he was…he’d rather hang, to be frank.

He was cast without ceremony onto a patch of ground surrounded by iron bars. Pulling himself up with a grimace, his gaze settled on two figures that did not appear to belong at an Egyptian prison. Men. English men if he could hazard a guess based on their wardrobe and the rather stuffy way in which they carried themselves. English men always had posture like someone had rammed a rod up their ass.

Speaking of ramming something up someone’s ass…

The little one was pretty damn cute. Soft chestnut curls just visible beneath his sun hat, tiny wire rimmed glasses perched on a pert little nose, plump pink lips that he kept wetting with the tip of his tongue as he stared, wide eyed at Tony through the bars. He was pretty. Prettier than the girls back home in New York. Prettier even than the woman he’d taken to bed the night before…the one who had him facing his death in what was likely a very short time. Hell, if he’d met this pretty little thing last night instead of the thieving piece of shit accompanying him, Tony would have probably given him the trinket and still be back at his room in the boarding house taking the boy apart instead of swinging from the end of a rope. The boy seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and stepped forward with a nervous smile. “Oh, hello, pardon me, I don’t mean to be rude. You just…you are not what I was expecting at all.”

The little one had a soft tone and a proper English accent that made Tony want to live long enough to hear that gentile voice reduced to a rasping, cursing wail of pure desire… 

“Is it true that you know the way to Hamunaptra?”

Wait. What? “Hamun…I should have known.” He was never lucky enough to have a piece of ass that fine thrown his way without some kind of caveat. “Yeah, baby, I can take you to the City of the Dead. But I might beat you there since I’m about to be hanged…you get me out of here, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Hopefully down on him was going to be at least one stop before their final destination.

The boy looked alarmed, turning to cast a look at the man who had accompanied him, hopefully not a lover…though given the look of the guy, he’d be no competition for Tony anyway. “Well, I…I don’t know. That does seem to be quite a predicament…”

Tony laughed, “Yeah, you could say that. But I promise you’ll like me better alive than dead, sweetheart.” Reaching through the bars he grabbed a handful of that starched white shirt and tugged the boy closer until he could just reach his lips through the bars. He was a little up tight, but he was English. Tony had been anticipating that. He tasted like honey and lemon and after a moment’s hesitation seemed to relax into the kiss, letting Tony tease his lips apart with his tongue and delve deep into the moist recesses before he pulled away with a growl. 

Flushed pink, lips swollen, the boy straightened his cravat and cleared his throat. “I…um…I’ll see what I can do, shall I?”

2.

“Ugh, to think I ever found that scoundrel attractive!” Peter grimaced at his own reflection, dropping the fingers he’d had pressed to his lips. He really had been stupid to think that the kiss meant anything to the American. Tony was a dying man desperate to live and he had done anything necessary to prolong his miserable life.

Like a fool, Peter had fallen right into his trap.

“You are far too intelligent for this, Peter. Chin up, old chap. You can ignore that American pig long enough to find the Book of Amun-Ra and then you never have to see him again.”

So what if he was rakishly good looking? Peter hadn’t thought so in prison, but Tony’s hair had been long and his beard had been unkempt and he’d smelled of wet camel and alcohol. When they had met at the docks later and Tony had presented himself with cleaned and trimmed hair and a goatee so masterfully groomed that Peter was half tempted to ask if he’d found a barber to have it professionally done, Peter had to admit that the man was perhaps the most handsome one he had ever set eyes on. The kiss…the kiss had been positively sinful, but apparently that devil hadn’t felt the same way.

Well. Peter didn’t need him anyway. He was an academic! He had books and brains and that ruffian was probably going to wind up swinging from another rope the moment they parted company. Best not to lose sleep over him.

One moment Peter was dressing for bed and the next he was facing the end of a pistol in the hand of a strange man in desert garb with facial tattoos that Peter could almost just begin to decipher. “Oh dear! Can I help you? I think you have the wrong room…”

“Where is the map?”

Peter grimaced as the barrel of the gun was pushed into his chest. “Over on the desk.”

“And the key?”

“Key? I don’t have a key…” Peter’s confusion was interrupted by the sound of his door splintering. There, standing in the rubble of the ruined entry was the very scoundrel he had been disavowing only a moment prior. He looked resplendent with a gun in either hand, a look of determination on the chiseled features of his too handsome face and his once carefully coiffed dark hair falling in haphazard strands across his forehead. 

“Let the kid go.”

Peter’s gaze was ripped from his rescuer only long enough to glimpse the second attacker attempting to enter through the porthole. Apparently, Tony too saw that figure and released a volley of bullets. Really, Peter had never seen anything quite as inherently masculine and impressive as Tony Stark facing off against his attackers. Never mind that now the boat was on fire and there seemed to be a great many more of the men in black than just the two that had been attempting to infiltrate his cabin. He didn’t even have a thought to spare for his brother, to wonder where on earth Scott was and if he had gotten free of the ship.

At least, not until they had dragged themselves up onto the shore of the Nile and Peter was watching everything on the ship burn. He shivered in the night air and bemoaned the loss of his clothes, his books, his tools…although, he didn’t mind the look that Tony was giving him as the American’s dark eyes raked over the thin, wet night clothes that clung to his skin…

3.

“What was that about nothing bad ever coming from reading a book?”

Peter cast the man a weary look. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

Tony just snorted and grabbed Peter’s arm, jerking him sideways down an alley and a steep but short descent of stairs. “Okay, so he’s whole and he’s got the book and we’re basically screwed. We gotta keep you away from him.”

“That is a plan I do rather like, I have to admit.” Peter let a little whoosh of breath as he was knocked backward into a wall and pressed firmly there by Tony’s rock solid form. Eyebrows raised, he opened his mouth to question the move, but a hand was pressed against his lips and Peter followed Tony’s gaze to the mouth of the alley where a mass of entranced slaves were beginning to trickle by. Peter’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make a sound.

As the final stragglers in the crowd edged by, Peter and Tony left the safety of the alley and attempted to race across the square to the next thoroughfare on their way out of the city. They were stopped by the undulating mass of insects that descended from the sky and formed a living, writhing curtain in front of them.

Peter gulped audibly, following the voice to face the now regenerated and empowered Thanos. He was large and frightening and ugly. The boy could not help but grimace, hands trembling slightly at his side.

“Leave the kid alone.” Tony stepped in front of him. Dear, sweet, brave Tony. He had underestimated the American. He wasn’t a scoundrel. He was a hero. A true hero like one from novels and fairy stories. Peter had no doubt that he would die to protect him from Thanos if that was what it took, but he really didn’t want to see that exquisite example of the human condition die because of him. It seemed such a waste. He was, after all, just a librarian and it did not seem that his feelings for the man were at all reciprocated.

Breaking away, Peter moved to join Thanos, his gaze meeting Tony’s for a moment as he passed him. They were outnumbered. Thanos had the upper hand. They couldn’t fight him and succeed. Not here. They needed the book of Amun-Ra and one of them had to be alive and free in order to fetch it. “I have to do this…but…I’m not saying you can’t rescue me if you’d like. In fact I’d much prefer that actually…if you feel up to it, that is.”

The last thing Peter saw as he was spirited away by the resurrected Thanos was the look of sheer determination on Tony’s face.

Maybe he did have feelings for Peter after all…

4.

It took extreme physical effort on Tony’s part to hold himself back, to formulate some kind of a plan…even a half-assed one, as he took in the sight of Peter chained to a platform alongside a female mummy that had to be the ugly guy’s girlfriend. Great. Just great.

Scott had the book. Scott had been behind him a moment ago but had either been detained or was too cowardly to enter the antechamber with Thanos and the brunt of his legion.

Well, Scott might be a coward, but there was no way in hell that Tony was going to let Thanos sacrifice Peter to bring his girlfriend the rest of the way back from the dead. So, he didn’t have guns. He’d ran out of ammunition and lost the pistols themselves several mummy hordes ago. All he had, in fact, was a sword he’d taken from a statue and his own stubborn will to reclaim the boy whose body he hadn’t even gotten to taste yet.

The kid could not die a virgin. He was way too pretty to die a virgin, and he had to be a virgin. Stuffy British boy like that…his kiss at the jail had probably been his first one.

Okay, enough planning. Sometimes, you just had to wing it.

With a yell, he raced from the shadows with the sword held high, swinging wildly at the undead who swarmed towards him, breaking through enough to snap the chain on one of Peter’s wrists before he was pulled back into battle once more. He wished his movements were a little more refined. Maybe if he’d taken fencing like his father had wanted. As it was, he was chopping at the dessicated figures sloppily, watching as pieces of mummy rained down around them and tried to rejoin the fray with whatever means they possessed. A few disembodied feet were wiggling in the sand, hands crawling like spiders in search of something useful, heads chomping at the empty air.

A scream tore Tony’s attention away from his foes to the dais and the still semi-restrained figure of Peter. The boy was desperately trying to pull his free arm loose of the chains while the female mummy crawled up his body with a dagger in her hand.

“Leave. My. Boy. Alone.” Tony broke away from the pack, racing the distance between himself and the Englishman who had stolen his heart. He dived for the mummy, his head connecting with her chest and throwing them both over the side into the sand as he swung the sword against that last bit of chain to free Peter’s other hand.

“So I’m your boy, now, am I? I don’t recall having agreed to that…”

“Are we really going to argue semantics now, baby?” Tony dodged a strike from the mummy and her blade. “Get that golden book of yours from your cowardly brother in the other room and let’s end this before they end us, hm? Then I can show you why you really do want to be my boy, Peter. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me…”

“I. Do. Not. Beg.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hmph, we do have to survive this first, you know.”

“Right, so go get the book already!”

“So bossy,” Peter turned up his nose at the man but still raced back towards the entrance, dodging the writhing parts of fallen mummies as he went.

Tony was just reaching the end of his rope. There were far too many of these dried out defenders of Thanos and it didn’t help that even when he thought he’d killed them…some part of them came back with a vengeance. The girl was another problem all together. If he looked away from her for even a moment, she tried to follow after Peter and he had to charge after her. “How many times I gotta tell you, lady, the boy is mine?”

He was losing steam. He didn’t know how long he was going to be able to keep this up. Truthfully, he might have given up a couple dozen foes ago were it not for the the stodgy little English rose he was trying so desperately to save.

“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Peter’s voice shouted from the entry and Tony cursed as he dived for the girl again, grabbing her heal and jerking her off of her feet before she could race at Peter and bury the dagger in his chest. Tony hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of him and suddenly surrounded by a swarm of the disembodied parts of the mummies he had slain. 

“Read it, Peter, for God’s sake, read it!”

“Oh, right, yes…” He slammed the book against the wall, hefting it’s heavy cover open and began searching the golden pages for the proper inscription.

Thanos waved the mummy parts away from Tony with a motion of his hand. He’d found another one of those daggers like his girlfriend. He was holding it tightly in his fist and looking at Tony in a way that reminded him way too much of Howard. Disapproval and disappointment. His two best friends. Tony’s fingers closed around the hilt of his sword on the sand, determined to go out fighting for Peter if not for himself.

Peter’s voice rang out loud and clear through the chamber. Thanos seemed to pause, real fear in his eyes as a phantasm of ghostly light passed over the room. But when it was gone, Thanos was still there and he still looked prepared to kill Tony.

“Peter…that didn’t work.”

“It should have worked!”

“It didn’t work.” Tony grimaced at the figure as he bent over him, dagger poised to strike. 

“Tony? Tony…no…”

Peter’s strangled cry of alarm was enough to snap Tony’s focus back into place. He lashed out, kicking the figure with both legs and attacking with his sword. It was only when the blade had buried itself in the other man’s gut and Tony was covered in blood and thicker, more nauseating things, that he called out a choked. “Yeah, no, I was wrong. It totally worked…”

5.

How many people got to lose their virginity in the Egyptian city of the dead to a man who had nearly died to save him? Not many, Peter would wager.

“Does this I mean I get to keep you…or am I just one in a long line of conquests?”

Tony propped himself up on an arm to regard the boy with a playful smirk. “You really think I’d go to this much trouble for a conquest? You’re real pretty, Peter Parker, and the sounds you make when I fuck you are a thing of beauty…but I’d have never gone this far to save someone unless I intended to ‘keep them’.”

“Oh, well that really is too bad, Tony, because as I recall…if anyone is to be property and possessor in this relationship, I do believe that I am to be the one keeping you.”

Tony rolled his eyes but leaned down to peck Peter’s lips once, twice, three times. “You know what, Kid, that’s just fine by me.”

“Splendid! Have you ever been to South America, Tony? I have heard from other scholars that they have mummies there too…”

Tony covered Peter’s mouth with a hand and propped himself up again. “Scott! Scott! I know you’re somewhere around here. Scott, come take your brother back. I’ve changed my mind. I want to give him back…”

Squirming free of Tony’s hold, Peter let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I have not forgotten 'Time of Our Lives' and am hard at work on the final installment. I am just taking a little time off to partake in the prompts for Starker Week!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: @intothestarkerverse


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